


reason enough

by rubycrowned



Category: 1D - Fandom, One Direction, One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, i dont even know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 05:04:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubycrowned/pseuds/rubycrowned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>parts of louis keep falling away. and yet nick, somehow, continues to make sure that he never loses himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	reason enough

**Author's Note:**

> i actually have no idea what the fuck this is but hey i was reading my poetry tag on tumblr and oh look 500 words of tomlinshaw. i-

Louis could spend years tearing himself apart – has – and feeling as though everyone wants just little bit more, one more piece, one more part of Louis Tomlinson for himself. Stretching and tearing and _breaking_.

Until there’s nothing left.

_Is there anything left?_

He’s never quite sure anymore until he takes that jagged breath-

And then he’s looking down and meeting Nick’s eyes, half-lidded and fluttering as Louis rides him, but never dropping from Louis’ face. Never.

And he can feel Nick’s fingers at his hips, his thumbs digging into bone.

And Louis’ heart seems to catch audibly, even as the wet slap of skin fills the room.

And it grounds him.

Because, if Louis can still _feel_ , then surely he hasn’t lost everything. Not yet.

Not when there’s still this tiny chip that he never asked for, which embedded itself (himself) deep under Louis’ skin unknown and unbidden. Painted shades of radiant gold and a scarlet which manages to wax sarcastic even in metaphors.

See. Nick and Louis were never supposed to be a thing. They don’t understand each other (because that would mean understanding themselves), they never even really liked each other (because that would mean liking themselves). They had, have, nothing in common except Harry (and each other).

And yet.

There’s a drawer in Louis’ flat where Nick keeps a stash of skinny jeans and t-shirts that are so ironic they’re mainstream, because Louis’ look like capris when stretched onto Nick’s gangly frame.

And yet.

Every time Nick plays a tragically horrific pop song about _love_ on the radio, Louis’ phone will vibrate with a whining complaint about Finchy, or an invite to a party Louis will never attend because he barely recognises the names of three-quarters of the invite list, or maybe just an emoji that Louis can’t even pretend to interpret.

And yet.

While Louis still spends more time away from home than where he’d rather be, he’s starting to think that maybe home could be a person and not a place.

And yet.

Maybe things are broken. And maybe things aren’t perfect. And maybe Louis seems to spend his twenty four hours of the day trying not to fall down from the sheer exhaustion of keeping what’s left of himself together.

Maybe he still loves his life. And maybe he wouldn’t change a thing. But maybe he’s just so tired that everything has faded to shades of beige and taupe, and maybe these are shades filed under ‘natural’ on the paint selection chart but they’re not. Louis.

And he struggles to find the reason for it all. What makes something so draining to be considered so natural when all he wants to see is the brightness of the landscapes he’s travelled between and never settled, and the rhythm of hips rising and falling in patterns which are surely as _natural_ and yet infinitely more appealing than the bland grey that surrounds him now.

So maybe that’s why he attaches himself to that one glimmer of neon in a monotony of sepia.

Why, once found, he grips on as tightly as Nick, fiercely and inexplicably, holds onto Louis.

And, as they lie entangled in the aftermath, Louis thinks that maybe,

Just maybe,

That’s reason enough.

**Author's Note:**

> i will come back to this pairing at some point but apparently i felt like seeing in my 21st birthday in a similar way to how i spent the rest of the year prior: with a thick coating of angst
> 
> woooooo....happy birthday to me


End file.
